Cracking Glass
by It Slowly Faded Away
Summary: I hid by in the shadowed walls alone, letting life roll by, and I thought to myself, "Is this it?" Is it too late? They thought so, but we didn't.


As a child I had always thought that the world was a big, misunderstood place; that what our eyes settled upon, wasn't really what we were seeing. That what they saw, wasn't what they were looking at. I thought that the words people always spoke, wasn't what they were saying. That what our ears heard and what they were telling us were two different things that were all together separately different. I thought that nothing was ever black and white. Nothing was ever what it looked like or what we heard. I never once thought that the world was lying to me; I thought it was I who was lying to myself. To me, nobody could see beneath the words and the skin to what there truly was. No one saw it. They couldn't look pass it, pass the fancy, sophisticated words or the beautiful, fake smiles, because they didn't want to. They wanted to live in a world that _looked _happy, that _sounded _great; they wanted a world that only held a bright, burning light. They wanted hope.

But I saw pass it. I looked pass the broad grins, the cheerful eyes, and the attentive ears. I looked pass all the lies and the acts to what hid behind it all, to the very core of it. I saw the world for what it truly was. I saw it at its most vulnerable. And what I saw could never be forgotten, forever imprinted on my soul, whispering deep words into my ear.

The world was a dark place, made up entirely of shadows. We lived in a world of darkness; a darkness composed solely of night. Night was what each of us settled in, basking in its external black sheets, for it was in the darkness that we could hide, where we could be fake.

But I realized it was also where we could be real. The dark held fear: fear of the truth. For it was in the shadows that we hid our deepest secrets, shielding them from sight with our bodies. The dark was where the monsters lived, where every soul went to breathe, their truest forms living out in the safety of the night where no one could see them. It was in the night, in this darkness that seemed to last forever, that we could be true.

Then day would come. The sun would rise and with it came our fake smiles, glassy eyes, and sweet words. With it, came our life that I had dubbed a lie. During the day, we could walk around sluggishly as time went by, as life went by. And we put on happy faces and we laughed, telling ourselves(and others) the whole time that we were OK.

Only we wasn't.

It was at the age of 12 that I realized that. I realized that I wasn't OK, that nothing was. I realized that the world wasn't at all like we saw and that no matter what words we heard ourselves say, they weren't true. None of it was.

I learned that it was all made up of lies. That the world itself was a lie. That the lives we all lived were lies.

I learned that I was a lie.

For a kid to realize that everything they thought they knew was a lie, was in and of itself, a break. It was a break, a crack, to it all.

Now I know, I knew, that all we are are little, delicate sculptures of thin, fragile glass. Each glass was carved elaborately to look simply astonishing and amazing, but in the end, the truth was it was just glass; we were just glass. Glass, that could break. And everyday, my glass took a hit, one after another; each one forming a small, seemingly innocent, crack. But I knew the cracks were slowly increasing, and one day there would eventually be too many cracks and the glass would simply shatter.

And even now, as I stare up at the night sky with its endless supply of dream filled stars, I wait for that day.

But standing here next to the only person that could ever mend the cracks, I begin to tell them the story of each one. I guess, even now after everything, in some seemingly long, forgotten part of me, I still care.

**A/N: Here's the prologue. The rest will be told by two different point of views in third person omniscient. That is because you are not to know who this person is.**

**Please review.**


End file.
